French New Wave: An Introspective Dilly-Dally By the late 1950s America had done the right thing and given the letters of transit to the escaped Jew, and overthrown the corrupt union bosses. Every rogue P.I. had thwarted the wrongdoers and made the femme fatale settle down. Peter Lorre was every beady-eyed henchman and Newman every teenage heartthrob. Good was good and bad was black! (Thanks to Childish, At The Bridge Revisited). Now there’s nothing wrong with Casablanca and On the Waterfront, but, in order to effectively express the woes of the laymen in a rapidly changing culture, something was going to have to get messed up. So the boys in bleu began conceiving urban dreamscapes of the moving picture, derived out the dregs of cheap cups of coffee and smoking your friends down to the filters. (Thanks to Waits, Orphans Revisited).This meant dialogues (occasionally convoluted in structure, having gotten out of bed way too early) that were realistic, casual, and often improvised and an assortment of other hat-tricks that I won’t go into right here, because we’re saving them for later, that made films unlike anything seen before.
By the late 1950s America had done the right thing and given the letters of transit to the escaped Jew, and overthrown the corrupt